


1804

by LonelyGhostWriter



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Angst, Haunting, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-07 00:45:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8776426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LonelyGhostWriter/pseuds/LonelyGhostWriter
Summary: On July 12th, 1804, Alexander Hamilton's life was changed forever when he died from a gunshot from his old friend, Aaron Burr.On July 12th, 2016, Alexander Hamilton's death was changed forever when his ghost gets a second chance. Or in which Alex has been haunting the SAME house for 212 years and he's pretty bored. The owners happen to bear a strong resemblance to his 3 best friends from all those years ago.





	1. 1

It had been 212 years since he had last seen them. John’s crooked but perfect smile, Hercules’ large but quiet body, Lafayette’s flamboyant but lovable attitude. His three closest friends had either left him behind, or he had left them, but even after his death he had been unable to find them. It wasn’t for a lack of trying, as Alexander had tracked down all of their favorite places, but all for nothing. After years of searching, the former secretary of treasury had settled himself in a cosy and ornate mansion on the outskirts of modern day New York City. As more people had come into the town he was entirely unaware of the increasing construction around this house until the owner of it sold the place for the first time. 

Hamilton had been existing comfortably without causing problems for about 40 years now, but one mistake and the superstitious owner had enough. Alexander had simply tried to write with a quill pen once again and had successfully lifted the pen just an inch above the paper when he dropped it, splashing ink across the paper. It was still drying when the owner returned, and as Alexander floated up towards the ceiling, watching the older man nervously, the owner shrieked and fled from the house. Rather than returning himself to collect his belongings, he hired a few young men to come retrieve his items from the “haunted house”. As the poor ghost in the attic had not been alerted to this development, he assumed the young men to be thieves, and vanished, re-emerging in the kitchen where he managed to will open the door to the cabinet and push all of the pots and pans out onto the floor. Having effectively scared off the “thieves”, Hamilton returned to the attic, satisfied with his work. He failed to recognise that the actions had scared off the original owner as well. 

No one dared to inhabit a haunted house, and so the ghost of Alexander Hamilton was left to himself for another thirty years. In that time, he focused on better controlling his powers so that he could easily move objects without touching them and could travel through simply vanishing and reappearing, which for the time being he decided to call jaunting. This became highly useful on the day someone moved into the house again. Not used to cohabiting with a living being, Alexander had to be careful to be quiet when he was up in his attic room working late into the night (with no need to eat or sleep he could keep up the previously unhealthy work habits from his time alive). 

This wasn’t always easy though, and there was always a mistake made and the term haunted would remain the only description of the house. After over one hundred years, the owners of the mansion were not lasting any longer than two years, and by the 212th year the longest stay of an owner had been 1 year in the last 10. Move-in days were barely of interest anymore, as Hamilton no longer felt any real connection to the century and the people in it were peculiar to him. The idea of everlasting life had grown boring and he wondered why he had continued to simply exist so long. Even more so was the question of the house, and why he never felt compelled to leave it despite his boredom. The rumours of the ferocious ghost inhabiting the house had become true over the last half century as he took out his frustration on the tenants who dare reside there. Scaring them off didn’t give him any real pleasure but it was something that he could focus on and distract himself with. 

Hamilton was floating in the attic deep in thought when he heard the sound of a car pull into the driveway. By this time, the windows of the house could reveal the various houses up and down the street with the small yards and happy families that had developed while he had haunted this mansion. The houses were all more modern and pleasant than this old manor, but none of the contractors who had tried to destroy the house had ever succeeded, Alexander had learned all the ways of jamming equipment and scaring off workers over the past 200+ years. The sound of a car on the street was nothing new, but one in the driveway could only mean one thing.

This particular day was July 12th, 2016 and it was not one that ever excited Alexander, but rather sent him retreating back into his mind, reliving the day of his death. He could still vividly remember the feeling of being shot in the stomach and the whole day of excruciating pain that had followed it. Looking down, he could see where he had been shot, the wound looking fresh and bloody on his death day. With a howl of despair, he launched himself straight down through the floorboards all the way down to the first floor to await the distraction of the new owners.


	2. 2

Hercules slammed the door to his Camry and looked up at the house grinning, “Come on, this won’t be half as bad as you think” he promised. John could not help but to eye him doubtfully, the track record of this house was the worst he had ever seen. Only a few previous owners had ever stayed in the house until their death or retirement, otherwise the reported reason for leaving was always that it was “haunted”. Not that John believed in ghosts. He just knew something wasn’t quite right. The house itself had a much bigger lawn than all the newer developments around it, and a driveway to boot. The windows looked like they had not been cleaned in over one hundred years, and the paint had peeled away so badly that the original olive green paint was nearly secondary to the brownish grey wood underneath. Not a single shutter was straight on the damned thing, and the shingles looked like they had been through a hurricane. Lafayette’s head popped up from the trunk where he had been loading his arms with boxes and gave the house a quick look with appraising eyes. “Oui, I zhink I can do something with zis!” John turned to see Hercules heading inside, his arms loaded with boxes and the keys in his hands. Even the keys looked like warnings signs, they were the old fashioned brass keys that would be very beautiful if they did not happen to unlock a house most likely haunted by a ghost. Not that John thought ghosts existed or anything.  
John and Lafayette stood just behind Hercules when the door first swung open, both of them standing on tiptoes trying to peer into the dark establishment. The main entrance held a chandelier of all things, covered in the dust and cobwebs like out of a poorly designed horror film. The walls were a dark maroon color that reminded John starkly of the same pigment as, say, a pint of blood. The hardwood floors were oak and also covered in a layer of dust. A long rug ran down the hallway to what appeared to be the kitchen, though the door was barely open. Even Hercules seemed hesitant to take the first step in so Lafayette slipped past him, swinging around in a circle with a gigantic grin on his face.  
“Il est merveilleux! ‘Erc, what do you zhink?!” Encouraged by Lafayette’s success, Hercules followed him into the entryway and looked around.  
“Once you fix it up I am sure I will love it” he said encouragingly, giving Lafayette a small smile.  
“I cannot wait to see zee kitchen. Or should we pick our rooms first? Wait, you can do zat, zee one with zee biggest closet est pour moi!” Lafayette bounced towards the open kitchen door where they could hear his shrieks of excitement.  
John glanced over at Hercules, who appeared to be steeling himself for the ascent to the second floor without Lafayette. With a nervous glance back in the direction their friend had disappeared to, John sidestepped Hercules and climbed the stairs. It wasn’t until he stopped at the top that he realised how closely Herc had been following him, as he felt his friend bump into him from behind. John yelped, jumping up that last stair with wide eyes, before whirling around, ready to face whatever ghost had attacked him from behind. When his eyes landed on Hercules’ smug face, his defence withered and his blush grew undeniably across his high cheekbones, highlighting his freckles.  
“Still don’t believe in ghosts, Laurens?” The glee of embarrassing John seemed to have provided some much needed levity to the situation and Hercules moved past him down the hallway, opening doors as he passed them. They discovered a bathroom which appeared to have been recently updated by a hopeful owner before they were scared away, and there was definitely functional air conditioning; radiating from the very core of the house there seemed to be a permanent chill. Perhaps it was that small detail that unnerved John so deeply about the idea of owning this house. Never mind that ghosts didn’t exist. It was just the cold of the house.  
There were three bedrooms, and one happened to contain two walk in closets. “I can’t believe how cheap this place is” John mumbled, careful not to let the chattering of his teeth be heard from the sudden decrease in temperature when they entered the room.  
“Me neither, I mean just look at this view!” Herc gestured to the large window grandly before pulling his hand back into his chest as if he had just been stung.  
“Are you alright?” John approached his friend with concern, reaching out to examine his hand.  
“Yeah, ‘m fine. Is it just me or is it really, really cold in here?” Hercules glanced nervously over at John, awaiting his response. His hand felt like it had been stuck in a freezer and was only now warming up again.  
“It’s fucking freezing. Can we just check out the other rooms and then go find Laf?” With Herc’s assent they left the room and noticed the immediate lift in the temperature. The difference was so drastic it felt like they had just walked indoors after being outside in the winter. Another room had only one small window that looked out at the plain white house next door but had the greatest general floor space of all the bedrooms as well as a wall that consisted mostly of cabinetry for extra storage. The other bedroom had a grand window looking out to the unkempt garden in the backyard as well as an antique beautiful writing desk to the immediate right of the window. The brass bed frame was old fashioned and made for a double, and as John was the only one who both enjoyed writing and owned a double bed it was clear that this final room was to be his. Hercules claimed the large room with the small window and went about opening every closet or cabinet door, checking to see if anything had been left behind. John sat at the dark oak chair that matched the writing desk and envisioned himself writing with his laptop on the desk and looking out the window to the garden once it was maintained properly on a warm spring morning. The very idea gave him a jolt of unexpected excitement, and he practically felt the warmth of the house increase with this new welcoming thought. This house was perfect, even if it did need some love and care. There was no such thing as ghosts, and nothing could possibly drive him away from this place.


	3. 3

Upon meeting up with Lafayette and Hercules in the entrance hallway, Laf led the way to the kitchen where he had dropped his boxes off on the large oak dining table that could easily sit eight. Although it was only the three friends who would be living here, the thought of furniture that came with the house for free was not something to be dismissed so easily as saying it suited their needs too much. They needed a place to eat, so they got a beautifully handcrafted table to sit at. The kitchen was glorious, it appeared to have been updated recently, probably within the last ten owners (so within the last four years), and had all new appliances and cabinets and granite countertops. Lafayette had already cleaned the whole room, the glass of the windows were polished, counters wiped down, cabinet doors hanging open to dry from their recent scrubbing. Lafayette looked immensely proud of himself, and his friends looked shocked at how much he had accomplished in such little time. 

“I zhink zee kitchen will be my first project,” Lafayette declared, “it just needs some paint, maybe new floors, and the lighting needs updated”. John looked up at the ceiling only to find that there was not a single bulb still in the ceiling. “I wonder what happened to them all” Herc muttered, standing on his tiptoes to better inspect the fixtures. “Maybe it was zee ghost you are so afraid of” Laf teased, ignoring Herc’s reaction as he fixed his French friend with a scowl.

That ghost happened to be floating in the doorway watching the newcomers with a strange fondness he hadn’t felt in a long time. The three men did not perhaps appear to look the same as his friends from his previous life, but he could see it. Hercules was physically built the same as the tailor turned spy. Lafayette had the same excitable and flamboyant nature, however it may have been made more obvious by the apparent openness of this century. And John. Well John had that same crooked grin that made Alexander long desperately for the man who had left him behind after the war all those many years ago. John also seemed to have remained that same height, making him shorter than the current average but still taller than Hamilton. Lafayette and Mulligan had both grown in height, both now measuring over six feet in height. Hercules had strong muscles and wide shoulders which made for interesting contrast to Lafayette’s much thinner and graceful frame. 

Lafayette was now reaching into a box with one hair while pulling his curly hair back into a ponytail with the other, tying it with a hair tie on his wrist. The items of the box appeared to be dishwashing powders, washcloths, soaps, sponges, and paper towels which he began unloading under the sink as Hercules went back to the car in search of light bulbs to brighten the kitchen with. John seemed reluctant to wander the house alone but after a minutes hesitation he headed to the living room. Alexander felt drawn to follow him, and melted through a wall into the adjacent living room just to see the pleasant look of surprise on John’s face when he saw the large fireplace and cosy chairs and couches. If he had been alive, Hamilton would have felt guilty for not having started a roaring fire in the hearth to help add to the welcoming atmosphere of the room but it may have been rather alarming to someone who thought no other entities existed in the house. 

Alexander watched as John lowered himself into a dusty armchair near the fire and contented himself with looking about the room. As much as the ghost enjoyed watching his closest friend again, he figured the others may be doing something slightly more interesting. Hamilton returned to the kitchen to find that Lafayette had left, most likely going to help Hercules unpack. It occurred to him that John should most likely be assisting these efforts as well and for a brief moment considered going back to the living room to scold him before remembering his inability to communicate. As he went to the front window to watch the other two unload the car Alexander could not help but find his mind contemplating the issue of being unable to communicate with his friends despite having finally been reunited. The unpleasant thoughts were pushed away at the sound of the door opening, and Hamilton rushed to the open door in time to overhear Lafayette finish speaking to Hercules. 

“... and if you want to leave after zee month, zhen fine! We will leave. But I would ‘ate to leave zis beautiful place before I even got to fix it up a little.”

“Alright we can do that, but if anything weird happens in the next month, we are gone”. Hercules looked tense and nervously peered around the corner into the kitchen before entering and setting more boxes on the kitchen table. Hamilton could not help but remember his accidental encounter with Hercules’ hand upstairs. It had been his first physical encounter with a living being since his death, and the shocking warmth he felt when the hand passed through his arm had been a startling relief from his frozen reality.“Now go find John and left him know that I brought his things in- oh there you are!” John emerged from the living room only a moment later a dove upon opening his boxes of belongings.

“Thanks Herc. I’m going to head up to my room and unpack, I will come back down to help when I’m done.” And with that he had disappeared down the hallway. Alexander was torn between following John and staying to see what the others were going to do, but when Lafayette announced that he would follow suit and Hercules agreed with a shrug, he jaunted himself back upstairs into John’s new room. 

Hamilton could picture the previous tenants of this room, the different colors that the walls had been painted and the different uses of it. Guest bedrooms, studies, small libraries even. The memories were as vivid as if the room was still in the use of its past owners, however Alexander also couldn’t move past the excitement of finally having John back. Of all of his… friends, John was the one he had missed most dearly, and even not being able to exist in John’s life was satisfactory as long as John could exist in his own. The ghost watched the young man unpack his belongings. He settled his laptop on the writing desk and plugged it into the outlet. Hamilton still remembered the electricity being wired into the house for the first time and he wished he knew how to work technology, particularly the invention of the laptop. He had only the vaguest understanding of how the internet worked, but from what he had seen over the shoulders of past owners had intrigued him. Alexander floated in the corner of the room and as he watched John he felt a shiver in his essence, a resurrection of emotion that he hadn’t been quite sure he could feel. He quickly jaunted himself back into the attic. He needed time to think.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, 'jaunting' comes from the word jaunt and is also based on jaunte in The Stars My Destination


End file.
